


Thrill Me

by HadenXCharm



Series: Excitement [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Sex Toys, Sickfic, a bit of sick fic, because i apparently don't know when to stop once i jump on the kinkwagon, more crossdressing porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadenXCharm/pseuds/HadenXCharm
Summary: Ichigo’s life has never been weirder. Or more embarrassing. Or interesting, for that matter.“I think this’s gonna’ be a load of fun.”Ichigo smiled back. “... Me too.”





	1. Chapter 1

         Ichigo’s life has never been weirder. Or more embarrassing. Or interesting, for that matter.  
  


Maybe this was part of becoming an adult: finding out and admitting you were into weird things and accepting that about yourself, being grown up enough to share that with those closest to you. It certainly didn’t get easier.  
  


Look, he’s a guy with problems, okay? And it was hard for him to talk about.  
  


He’d thought just _doing_ it would make him feel better and he’d get over these issues he was having, but it didn’t seem to work. It was this weird thing that just sat there in his brain like a rock and didn’t move, wouldn’t leave.

So even after he and Renji started  getting a little bit more adventurous in bed together, they hadn’t actually really _talked_ about it much, and he was starting to think Renji’d gotten the wrong idea somewhere along the line.

He’d never really made it clear to Renji this whole time - not since the first time he’d worn panties for him until now - that he hadn’t just done it out of some effort to please him. He hadn’t explained that there was this thing inside him that liked doing that, that was turned on by it all on its own without needing any other motivation. He couldn’t tell him how he’d come upon it like a little boy masturbating for the first time, discovering something that felt so good and right but somehow still feeling guilty and wrong for it, yet being unable to stop, unable to forget about it ever again.

Even the other night, when he’d cracked and worn those baby-blue trimmed lacy things because he just couldn't stand it any longer and told Renji through the door, he hadn’t been able to tell him all of it.

He knew he must have worried Renji, getting so distant over it again, and he felt bad, he really did, but he just couldn't muster up the courage to take the plunge. After that incident though, Renji was really affectionate with him, for _days -_ and after Renji spoiled him and cooked him dinner and rubbed his feet and _loved_ him all evening, Ichigo finally just spat it out and told him, face to face.  
  


      It was hard. It was really hard, but he’s just so tired, so sick of feeling like this that he made himself do it, forced out the words.

  
He told Renji about what he’d seen in the shopping arcade and why he’d asked the questions he’d asked about girls, because there had been this _thing_ _,_ this mysterious unexplored _thing_ inside him that had felt excited by the idea, something that felt like he should do that too, that wanted to try it out himself - something he just hadn’t been able to admit because he’d been too embarrassed, because he hadn't wanted Renji to think of him as less of a man, because maybe somewhere inside, he'd thought of  _himself_ as less of a man because of it.

Renji was quiet through the whole explanation, which was a blessing, because Ichigo could barely speak, could barely look at him, but Renji didn’t look like he felt sorry for him or disgusted by him - didn’t look at him like he was some spectacle or something to be made fun of. He looked relieved, understanding, even excited by it.

“I know you’ve been the one dressing up to excite me because you think I have a fetish for it or something,” Ichigo muttered, scratching beneath his nose. It’s never been hard to talk to Renji about sex, but it is now. It’s been so long since he’s been shy around him, but this last month or so, he felt almost constantly shy.  
  


“What, you don’t?” Renji replied, bewildered. “Then…”  
  


“No, I do, I guess it turns out that I do,” Ichigo admitted, staring at his lap and fidgeting. “... Just… That first time that I tried to excite you, you know, by wearing… what I wore,” he grit out, “I didn’t just do it to make you happy.”

“I know, you told me.”

Ichigo winced, looking away. He didn’t want to say it. He really didn’t want to say it out loud. “No,” he forced. “I didn’t.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slow. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I liked doing that,” he confessed, not liking the silence that followed. “Wearing that... I liked it.” He hung his head. "I mean, I'm not having gender confusion or anything, but putting  _that stuff_ on, it really... I feel... I just like it."

Renji tilted his head and placed a hand over his sweaty ones. “Don’t look so ashamed.”

“Sorry, it’s just hard to say out loud,” Ichigo murmured, a little bit comforted that Renji wasn’t treating it like a big deal. It helped him believe it himself. “ . . . You look happy,” he surmised, taking a peek at Renji’s expression.

“Why shouldn't I be.”  
  
“....” Ichigo looked away, swiping at his nose again, letting Renji keep holding onto his hand.

“Look,” Renji told him, “I won’t say it doesn’t matter, because I know it matters to you.” Ichigo met his eyes then, shoulder still hunched with hesitance and lingering shame. “What I want you to know is that it doesn’t change how I see you.” Ichigo glanced down to his lap for a second, nodding.  
  
Renji chucked him on the chin with a grin then. “Glad you were brave enough to tell me, stud.” Ichigo snorted, but let Renji take both of his hands between them and squeeze them. With an anticipatory breath, Renji told him, “I think this’s gonna’ be a load of fun.”  
  


Ichigo smiled then, squeezing back. “... Me too.”  
  
  


      "... So would you ever wear a dress?"

                  "No! Don't screw around!"

                               "I know, I was just teasing! . . . . But for real though. Sailor-fuku skirt?"

    
                                       "We'll talk about it later."

 

And even though he was still somewhat shy about it, still working it out himself, he was relieved, he felt so relieved, and was able to do those things without this crushing weight of nervousness on his shoulders.

After that, when they made love, Renji often asked him to put those babydoll underwear on. Once it became a regular thing and they got used to it, once Ichigo felt comfortable enough, he started to change it up, getting other different ones.     Renji tells him he can’t remember having more fun.

Ichigo still wasn’t super confident in himself, obviously, still averted his eyes and fidgeted a little and needed Renji to kiss and fondle him before he loosened up and got his self-confidence back, but that was fine, because he was starting to suspect that he got off on there being some element of humiliation involved.

It was a nice routine they were getting into. Ichigo would come home to find Renji agonizing over a package that he clearly wanted to open and get a peek at, and then be immediately urged into the bathroom with it to put on whatever he’d bought. He’d come out of the bathroom and show himself off and Renji would pounce.

  
     Tonight when he opened the door, Renji dropped to his knees in front of him, rubbing his face into Ichigo’s crotch until he was hard and beading precum through the fabric of his panties front. Renji dragged his tongue along his cock through the soft fabric, taking a deep breath of his smell. “Mmmm,” he sighed when the breath rushed out. Ichigo took handfuls of his hair, standing with his feet apart, looking down at him.

Renji pulled them down only a little bit, just so they were there bunched up on his legs just beneath his ass, and fingered him like that - he pulled them back up and then nudged them to the side with his finger so he could eat him out. He fucked him against the door with them still on, pulled to the side, until the chafing was too much. Ichigo kicked them off then, setting his stance wide and letting out a huff of a laugh when Renji slammed his weight against him, crushing him against the wall, holding his arms over his head.  
  


     Renji’s never gone that wild on him, he doesn’t think.    
  


Afterwards, when Renji had cum, Ichigo stood there on trembling legs, gasping for breath and sweating. Renji leaned down, still jammed deep inside him, and picked up the discarded underwear and held them to his face, smelling them, his eyes burning into Ichigo’s - and it’s _filthy._ Ichigo let out a small moan.  
  
“Now,” Renji sighed, as if he’d only thought of that as some sort of brisk warm-up. “Put ‘em back on,” he demanded, voice low and husky.

Ichigo did, once Renji pulled out. He was shaking all over, wobbly to the point that he almost stumbled over, lifting one foot and then the other to pull them back up his legs. Once he did, Renji caught him by the chin and pulled his lips up to his, whispering, “Now me,” and yanked him down the hall to their bed.

Renji ran him ragged, spreading his legs open obscenely wide and making Ichigo get between them and plow him until the sweat was _dripping_ from his forehead. Ichigo was magnetized by the sight, looking down between them and seeing his cock pounding into Renji like that, seeing himself fucking him while wearing those baby-sweet panties - it drove him insane.  
  


His body could hardly take the orgasm, it was so intense.  
  


It’s not that he didn’t trust Renji before now, it wasn’t that he hadn’t shown him his vulnerable soft side before and told him his dark secrets, but lately, he’d done so many things that he never would’ve imagined doing before, showed himself to Renji _raw,_ without any shield, doing _humiliating things,_ that Ichigo felt more attached to him than ever, loved him more than ever that they could share this kind of thing together, could make sex an amazing and exciting and _new_ thing every single time.

The following morning, waking up pleasantly sore and worn out after pushing themselves so hard, they got in for a hot shower and Renji skimmed up behind him, hands cupping him where he lay soft, lips on his shoulder.

And when they come together under the warm water, clouded by steam, it’s not boring as he thought it might be, it wasn't a drag as he'd thought regular sex might become. Renji’s name in his ear and his wet fingers linking through his against the shower tiles felt just as intense, just as passionate as ever.


	2. Chapter 2

          “I want a divorce,” Ichigo said the moment he walked in.  


“What?” Renji yelped, wrapped in a blanket and sniffling. “Why?!” Ichigo scowled at him. “Wait, we’re not married,” Renji realized, but shoved his lip out in hurt all the same, “but still!”

“The couch is why,” Ichigo huffed, grumbling to himself and stomping around the room in a disgruntled huff, rubber gloves covering his arms up to his elbows, a mask muffling his voice slightly.  


“It was an accident.”  


“Don’t even talk to me. I want a goddamn divorce.”  


“Ichigo, I’m sorry! I couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time,” Renji apologized, “Don’t divorce me.”  


“That’s why I told you to stay in bed, I left you a bucket in here and it’s closer to the bathroom!” Ichigo continued griping, still in his scrubs.  


“I wanted to see you when you came home,” Renji whined miserably, ducking down.  


Ichigo removed his mask from his face, letting it hang around his neck, and snapped, “I oughta’ spank you! I finally convince you to take a day off work and you can’t even behave for a few hours! Go to bed! Now!”

Renji hung his head, and obeyed, but, _‘only because I feel like shit,’_ he made sure Ichigo knew.

Ichigo gave a long aggravated groan, soaking what he could of the couch cushions in the utility sink in the laundry room, and sprayed everything else that might have been splattered in the living room with disinfectant. Damn idiot throws a fit over taking a goddamn sick-day and can’t just sit home and put his feet up for one fucking day, and didn’t even have the decency to throw up where he was supposed to throw up.

When he finally got done - he’d still have to take the cushion in to be dry-cleaned tomorrow - he stood at the counter for a couple seconds, letting out a long sigh. He went into the bedroom, not sparing more than a glance to Renji, who was lying in bed rather meekly.

Ichigo went to the dresser and stripped off his scrubs, still rather frustrated, but it lost its steam. Renji was just looking so pitiful.

“I’m sorry you had to clean my puke,” Renji tried tentatively, his voice a froggy croak. Ichigo didn’t turn around, grimacing at the wall as he pulled some lounge clothes on. He figured it wasn’t fair to keep being mad when the poor guy had been home alone all day. Renji never did well on his own like that, especially when he was feeling sick - he’s like a little kid.

“I mean, I know you’re probably used to that stuff, with work and everything, but I’m still sorry.”

“Hmph.” Ichigo approached the bed then, went over to feel his forehead, first using his palm, then leaning down to press his cheek on Renji’s head. He felt a little warm. He’d get him a damp towel in a couple minutes and feed him. He still had to eat and drink something even if he was throwing up, or else he’d get dehydrated.

“I can tell you really love me if you’d do something like that,” Renji continued, raspy and bleary-eyed, clearly enjoying the gentle stroking to his head as Ichigo helped scoop his hair off his neck and face and lay it out on the pillow.

Ichigo sighed through his nose, tucking Renji’s blankets around him better. He’d made a fucking mess of them. “I do. Just don’t make it a habit.”  


Renji smiled, eyes contently closed despite his labored breath.  


“What’re you thinking about.”  


“You,” Renji murmured. “Takin’ care of me when we’re old.”  


Ichigo snorted, but only to hide how those words touched something soft and fragile inside of him. “Who says we’ll still be together then.”  


“Why wouldn’t we be.”  


Ichigo leaned down and kissed him lightly on his chapped lips, holding his breath to avoid the rotten sick smell. “Try to sleep, I’m gonna’ warm you up some food.”

So yeah, Renji was sick as a dog, and has been like this for days. He’s still been trying to go to work, the stubborn ass, but at last had had to take a day off, because he couldn’t stop vomiting. The next day when Ichigo woke up to get ready for work, he saw that it was still bad. Renji looked terrible.

He took the couch cushions in to be dry-cleaned, but couldn’t stop thinking about Renji, so pitiful all by himself, and ended up coming home from work early. He didn’t bother changing out of his scrubs, going straight to check on him and then take care of him. At least he was awake, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, which concerned him.

Renji watched him walk around the room, his eyes following him, and when he came near, he put an arm out of bed to try and wrap around his waist. Ichigo ignored him, feeling his forehead. “You feel hot,” he noted concernedly.

“Thanks, you too,” Renji sighed. Ichigo snorted involuntarily. “Kiss me better, doctor love.” Ichigo took his hand away, because now it wasn’t funny.

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No wait!” Renji blurted, trying to sit up. He’d managed to nab Ichigo’s arm, and he was fucking strong even when he was running a high fever. “Stay here, sexy,” he pleaded, getting all spoony and loopy. “Gimme’ an exam, I don’t feel so good down below.”

“We’re not playing this game now,” Ichigo told him. “Maybe later. Now, I’m calling the hospital,” he said firmly, prying Renji’s hand off his forearm.

“Noooo,” he complained, “I don’t want to go there. Just take care of me here.”

“No,” Ichigo refused point-blank.

“Why not?”

“Because you never listen to me when I do, that’s why.”

“I will, I swear,” Renji begged, doing his best to look small and helpless, which didn’t work when he such a big guy. “Let me stay.”

Ichigo sighed, putting a hand to his brow and closing his eyes. “If you rest and drink water when I tell you to and don’t complain about it all day today. Then I’ll think about it.”

“I will.”

“I’m putting a sick-mask on you too. You’d better not take it off.”

“I won’t.”

“I can't catch your germs, Renji.”

“I know, I won't. “

Ichigo was skeptical about that promise, no matter how earnest it sounded, but he let it go and took care of Renji for the rest of the day. Renji seemed to enjoy it too much despite being fucking _sick._ He knew how Renji loved to be taken care of and comforted by someone he loved.

True to his word so far, Renji was docile and obedient and drank and ate whatever Ichigo put in front of his mouth. He didn’t try to escape the bed and laid obediently and flicked channels on the TV at the end of their bed that was rarely used other than when one of them was sick.

He wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him though - he always got like that when Ichigo wore his scrubs. He’d figured taking them off would make him cut it out, but he wouldn’t, pinching and feeling on Ichigo’s bottom at every opportunity, begging him for a kiss, pulling his mask down a little and pursing his lips at him.

He gave him a blowjob later in the evening as a reward for good behavior, figuring the orgasm would wear him out and help him go to sleep. When Ichigo finally put him to bed, a glass of water and a stack of crackers on the table next to his head, along with the obligatory puke bucket on the floor there, Ichigo went to take a well deserved break in the living room.

He heated himself a plate of food that was altogether unreasonably big, stacking the rice far too high, and kicked his feet up, watching some late-night game show while he ate.

He got around an hour and a half of peace and quiet before he heard Renji rummaging around in the hallway. When he didn’t sound in a hurry, about to vomit, Ichigo just figured he was going to pee or something, but he glanced back when Renji shuffled into the doorway.

“Renji, what are you doing up?” Ichigo said in exasperation, seeing that he’d dragged a blanket with him. He was so fucking pitiful, clammy and unsteady on his feet.

“I wanna’ watch TV with you,” he rasped stubbornly, voice muffled through his mask.

“You need to rest,” Ichigo insisted, “Try and go to sleep.”

“No.”

“Renji, stop being pitiful! I’m not taking the day off tomorrow, so you have to take care of yourself!”

“Mm.”

“Renji, go back to bed.”

“M’ lonely. I wanna’ be with you.”

“Don’t be a stubborn ass.” He said it, but when he led Renji back to bed and tucked him in, Ichigo sat with him and stroked his hair until he fell back to sleep. He kept waking back up, but Ichigo just curled up next to him, sitting by his head above the covers with the TV on, petting his poor face.

At last he pulled an extra blanket over himself and drifted off himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Being sick gave Renji a lot of free time to think.

And he had time to scheme, more importantly. Ichigo’s been trying to avoid him so that he won’t get sick too, and Renji missed him - even after only a couple days. They still slept in the same bed at night, so Renji saw him then at least, but even being sick didn’t stop him from being horny.

But Ichigo won’t do it with him no matter how much he begs - _‘You’re feverish! Just rest!’_  

So while Ichigo's gone all day, Renji masturbates instead and lets his imagination run wild - and he schemes. The thing Ichigo had said weeks ago, wondering if he ever fantasized, came back to him.

By the time he was feeling a little better, he had a solid plan. This time instead of springing it on Ichigo without telling him first, he talked it over with him. That was another good thing about this new aspect to their relationship - it wasn’t that they hadn’t been open with each other in the past, but their communication had improved a lot.  
  


      “How do you feel about using toys?” Renji said bluntly at the breakfast table. He’s just got rice and an egg, his stomach still a little achy and queasy, but he was well enough to go to work now.

“Toys,” Ichigo repeated, looking up from the newspaper. “Like sex toys, you mean?” He was able to say it with a straight face, but Renji noticed the way he lowered his voice a tiny bit, even though they were alone in their home.

“I wanna’ try this one out with you,” Renji told him.

Ichigo sighed and half-covered his face, but he said, “Show me,” and Renji scooted around in his chair to his side of the table, showing him his phone screen. Ichigo had been holding out remarkably well, but he did start to blush then, biting his lips hard and squirming uncomfortably.

“You wanna’ try using these in the bedroom,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to use a… _dildo,”_ he whispered through gritted teeth.

“It’s not-!” Renji groaned, because what he was showing him was clearly not a dildo. Was he even looking or was he too busy blushing? “Just look!” Ichigo looked, and his brow scrunched in clear confusion.

“Is that an… _egg?”_ His embarrassed tone faded away, completely flabbergasted.

“No.” Renji glanced at the screen. “Oh. No, the one under it. It’s just one of those pocket vibrators.”

Ichigo took another look and squirmed a little more. “Oh… I dunno’...” He looked away, uncertain.

“It’s okay, babe, you don’t have to,” Renji told him, figuring Ichigo would look relieved or something, but he continued squirming.

“I’m not sure…” He looked away, pulling on his ear. “I’ll think about it.” Renji gave a lop-sided smile. “Maybe if you tried it first…”

      Renji grinned enthusiastically, resisting the urge to fistpump.  
  


                       "Don't look so enthusiastic! You're freaking me out!"  
  


    . . .  
  


          It only took a couple more days until he was feeling much better. That was around the time his _items_ showed up at their house. When Ichigo got home, his shoulders hung slack and he stared at the box apprehensively. Renji beckoned him over, sliding the package towards him to coax him to look inside. He watched as Ichigo peered over the edge, opening one of the flaps.

“Ugh, you went overboard,” Ichigo grumbled, his ears turning pink. “What is _that?”_

Renji took it out. “Oh yeah, I got a fleslight too. Look, it’s really cool, it even warms up so that it feels more real.” Ichigo gave the red striped casing a suspicious side eye.

“It looks like a shampoo bottle.”

“C’mon, let’s try it out.” Seeing that he wasn’t going to get out of this one, Ichigo let his head flop back on his shoulders with a groan of reluctance and followed Renji to their room.

  
“What else is in there.”

  
      “Y’know. Stuff.”  
  


                      “Renji.”  
  


“The vibrator, a plug, and those pricey condoms you like.”

“A plug?!” Ichigo yelped. “Not for-... It doesn’t plug… _that,_ does it?”

“Geez, just calm down. I told you I’d do it first, if it’ll make you feel better,” Renji soothed, but it didn’t look like it was working very well. “C’mere, this’ll help you unwind.” He managed to get Ichigo to lie on his back on the bed, but he still looked very uncertain.

Ichigo let him open his pants and pull them down and slick him up with lube, stroke him to hardness. He saw Ichigo close his eyes and then carefully peek one open when he teased him with the fleshlight, drawing the soft silicone end around the head of his dick and then pressing it on until it was penetrated. He slid it down to the base, gently grinding and twisting it on Ichigo’s cock, starting to slowly jack him off with it.

Watching Ichigo’s facial expressions was fascinating. He’d felt him tense up when he’d put the thing on him, but now he was starting to twitch and grit his teeth, his face contorting in pleasure. “How does it feel?” he asked curiously, using his free hand to feel Ichigo’s chest, touch his nipples.

“Ooohh,” Ichigo sighed, starting to relax, clinging onto Renji where he lay on his side next to him, slowly working the toy over his boyfriend’s erection. “Oh, it's good…”

“Lemme’ turn it on,” Renji said eagerly, going to press the button on top. Ichigo nearly kicked him in the junk in his panicked jolt to sit up.

“Wait, wait!” he yelped, desperately trying to pry him off and stop him from clicking the button. “What’re you doing?! It has moving parts?”

“Yeah, it sucks on your dick,” Renji explained, “Dude, chill, you’re gonna’ break it, it was expensive.”

"Stop! Stop! Don't!" 

"Okay, okay, lemme’ just-” He took it off Ichigo’s dick, leaving it pink and twitching.

Ichigo let out a long relieved breath, like he’d thought he was about to kiss his penis goodbye, crushed to death in a piece of machinery. Renji held it where he could see and inserted his fingers, turning the toy on. He could hear it vibrating in his hand, the inside of the toy still wet with lubricant and warmed up, the moving parts inside squeezing at the base of the toy and then moving down the length, making the flesh-like material inside clench and release around his fingers. “Mmm,” Renji grinned, licking his lips. “You’re gonna’ love this, baby.”

Ichigo swallowed, still recovering from his fright, but he let Renji slowly ease it down onto his dick. The reaction was immediate - Renji could barely push it all the way down. Ichigo couldn’t fucking sit still, beginning to writhe and squirm around the bed, moaning and clinging onto Renji with one hand, his hips twitching.

“What’s it feel like?”

“Oohh,” Ichigo managed, “Ohhh.”

“How’s the inside feel?” Renji breathed, his head next to Ichigo’s, lips brushing his ear as he looked down to watch his hand fucking Ichigo’s dick.

“Ahhh,” Ichigo gasped, drool running down his chin, “It’s good.”

“You feel fucking wrecked?” Renji purred onto the shell of his ear, his tongue tracing it. “You ready to wreck me like that?” Ichigo nodded helplessly and Renji eased the fleshlight off of him before he could cum.

Ichigo sat up slowly, hair a sweaty mess, but he seemed to glow even with his body trembling like that. He was achingly hard, his eyes clouded with arousal, and as they sat together around the vibrator, Ichigo watched closely as Renji turned it over and played with the buttons, looking at it with a certain curiosity.

Ichigo eventually took it out of his hand and waited for Renji to strip and spread his legs. He laid himself down on his front there, lubing him up, and turned the toy on. He tentatively touched the smooth silicone onto the side of his thigh, ran it through the slick, under his balls, and then pressed it on his taint. Renji twitched upwards, feeling as though the breath had been punched out of him. Not wasting a second, Ichigo ran it around his asshole in a couple wet circles and then pushed. It was accepted inside immediately, the vibrating relaxing him immediately as his arousal skyrocketed.

“Holy shit,” he wheezed, not having expected Ichigo to go that hard all at once. He’d seemed so shy about the idea, he hadn’t thought he’d get so into it.

Ichigo fingered him just like he liked, pushing the toy in and out and circling it around his asshole a few more times to tease him. He pushed it in then, as far as he can, until his fingers can’t reach it anymore, and it’s only connected by the safety cord. Renji let out a loud groan, feeling it planted against his prostate, vibrating inside him, the buzzing tingling through his spine and up into his brain. The hair was standing up all over his body and making him sweat.

Renji growled, hummed, pressing his ass up towards Ichigo. “Put your dick inside, push it in farther,” he growled enthusiastically. “Fuck me like this,” he panted.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself!” Ichigo blurted crossly, getting on top of him and holding himself straight. Renji begged him for it, he’s so fucking ready. Ichigo just let out a tense sigh, putting it inside slowly. Renji keened, feeling it move in even deeper.

“Haah, I can feel it touching my dick each time I thrust,” Ichigo breathed.

“Spank me,” Renji groaned into the mattress.

“Chill out, a guy can only take so much.”

“I can take it.”

“I meant me! I’m serious, the blood’s going to my head too fast,” he gasped, fucking him in steady controlled strokes. Renji was trying to push his hips back, giving a dry sob of frustration into the blankets.

“I’m going insane - pull my hair. Bite my neck. Ichigo, fuck me.”

“Uggh,” Ichigo grunted stuffily, and Renji could feel something warm running along his back, dripping.

Ichigo grumbled a little more. “Shit.” Renji turned his head to the side and saw blood on his face, saw him pinching his nose, but he only got a glance, because then Ichigo gave him his wish, and held his head down and stuffed him.  
  


         “I fucking knew I’d live to regret this shit.”


End file.
